The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: CHAIR

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Tabatha (whose posts alwaysalways inspire me!) at The Opposite of Indifference for Roundup. Is it really February?? 
For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.  Thank you, friends, for reading and responding! You're helping me keep going. :)

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.
Here are February's prompts: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.
CHAIR

First: a poem from ARTSPEAK! 2015:

 This Old Chair
<!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> </div></div>--> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>- after “Sewing Chair” by Dorothy Johnson</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Me, wait</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">for you?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That's not</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">all I do.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Turn me</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">upside down</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and you'll</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">find proof:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am also</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Spider's</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">roof.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>- Irene Latham</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b>... and now today's writing:</b><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was a picky eater as a child. Maybe this wouldn't have been a big deal in some families, but in mine the rule was “clean your plate.” There were times when I couldn't – or wouldn't – clean my plate. (Word choice there is completely dependent upon whether you were asking me or my mom!) On those nights, while my siblings played board games or watched a family movie, I spent the evening hours sitting at the kitchen table staring at the green beans (or whatever) on my plate. On those nights the hard ladder-backed kitchen chair became a boat or cave or spaceship. I'd push the chair back from the table and bring my knees up to my chest – a habit I still have today. I imagined and dreamed my way through those awful hours. Eventually the chair would become a chair again, harder than ever, so I would quickly stuff those green beans into my cheeks and dash for the bathroom, where I would spit them into the toilet. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">---------</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For those of you out there who may be parenting picky eaters, I can tell you that this practice did NOT help me learn to love my vegetables. It DID make me super-compassionate when it came to raising my own picky eaters! The “clean your plate” rule was not one we chose to continue. And these days I'll eat pretty much anything – though I still don't lovelovelove green beans. :)</div><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br />--> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">-------------</div>Finally, a poem that appears in my out-of-print book of poems for adults <a href="https://www.irenelatham.com/color_rev... COLOR OF LOST ROOMS</a>, which includes a number of ekphrastic poems. Now you know exactly where this one comes from... and how poetry is often a blend of fact and imagination.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6G521YgjG..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1056" data-original-width="816" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6G521YgjG..." width="308" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> </div>--> <div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Alligator Pears in a Basket</b></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><b>- </b></span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">after the painting by Georgia O’Keefe</i></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Eat</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">, his mother said. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>You must</i></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>clean your plate.</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> He crossed</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">his arms and clamped his teeth.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sat at the table for hours.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">By bedtime his mother’s eyes</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">blazed. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>You can’t make me</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">, </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">the boy said, and the pears</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">came alive, their jaws snapping,</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">their leathery skin slapping</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">against his tender cheek.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then they all went to bed:</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">the pears, the plate, the mother</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">and finally, the boy. His eyes</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">half-closed, ever watchful.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>- Irene Latham</i></span></div><i></i>